


we see the same stars

by dantique



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, New Years, Phil POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 12:17:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9181087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dantique/pseuds/dantique
Summary: They’d spent entire months abroad in 2016, and it had been wonderful - exciting and fast-paced and brand-new - but in the hollows of his bones he craves quiet in 2017. He craves home.(Dan and Phil ring in the new year)





	

**Author's Note:**

> i changed some names for privacy reasons
> 
> also this is my first fic, i really hope you enjoy!!! thanks for reading <3

It's colder up north, and the drive is long, but sitting in comfortable silence with Dan for four hours feels like an appropriate way to spend the last afternoon of 2016. They’ve spent the last 24 hours in bed watching nature documentaries, and the time spent going somewhere feels productive yet peaceful. 

Their driver is tuned in to some talk-back radio show, and Dan has his music turned up loudly in an effort to tune it out, the tinny sound of Childish Gambino (Phil thinks? He isn’t entirely sure) escaping his headphones. Phil’s got _Pokemon Sun_ on his DS but he’s been ignoring it for the better part of the last hour, staring mindlessly out the window as the world outside grows more familiar.

Manchester isn’t home, hasn’t been for over four years now. It isn’t even his parents’ home anymore, and that thought still makes his heart clench sometimes, makes his mind race and his stomach roil at the knowledge that his childhood bedroom, with its bright, eclectic wallpaper is home to some other child now.

But as they drive further into the city he allows himself to slip into that dangerous pocket of nostalgia he makes such an effort to keep at a distance, thinks of seven-year-old Phil who’d slipped and split his head open in that park they’ve just passed, and of 14-year-old Phil who’d had his first kiss down that road, and of nervous 22-year-old Phil, who’d waited on that train platform without the faintest idea that the train containing Dan also carried with it an entire adventure. 

“We’re about 20 minutes away, lads,” says the driver, craning his neck to look at them through the rearview mirror. 

“That’s great, thanks,” Phil replies, and Dan nudges him with his elbow to show him a tweet he finds funny, looks up and chimes in “Sounds good”. He’s chuckling to himself softly, and in his smile rests Phil’s entire home.  
* * * 

They’re at Ethan and Leanne’s place, and there’s champagne and loud music and children’s toys strewn across the living room floor. There are people here Phil’s known for most of his life, some he hasn’t seen in years. Predictably, they’ve wound up eating crisps by the dining room table and there’s a woman in front of them who’s grinning madly and holding her arms out for a hug. 

“Phil, oh my god!” she exclaims, “It’s been so long!”

A lock of her frizzy brown hair dips briefly into his champagne as she leans over to kiss his cheek, and he catches the glint in Dan’s eyes as he attempts to snort as discreetly as possible.

“Yeah,” Phil says, “like ten years at least?” _Aimee_. Her name comes to him in a flash, and he remembers sitting next to her in sixth year biology, both of them getting told off by Ms. Walker for talking too much. 

“God, I can’t believe it’s been so long.” Her friendly, dark eyes swivel to Dan expectantly, toothy grin still plastered on her face. 

“Oh,” Phil stammers. “Aimee, this is Dan”. He doesn’t elaborate further, stops short of clarifying the exact role Dan plays in his life. He doesn’t have to explain. It’s obvious in the way Dan leans into Phil when someone starts a rowdy chorus of _Auld Lang Syne_ three hours too early, the way Dan switches their champagne flutes and escapes to refill his so that Phil doesn’t have to deal with his hair-tainted drink, the way Dan’s tongue flicks out of the corner of his mouth when he laughs at Ethan’s retelling of the time Phil got stuck in the bowl at the skate park when they were thirteen.

* * *

Ethan and Leanne have a dog, a boisterous labrador named Archie that leaves muddy paw prints on Phil’s jeans and saliva on Dan’s t-shirt. Leanne explains apologetically that he’s only inside because he’s scared of the fireworks, but Phil thinks he’d be quite happy to remain on the floor by the fireplace, scratching Archie’s ears for the rest of the night if he’s honest. 

“Are you done?” he asks Dan, who’s crouched down taking photos of Phil with the dog.

“Nope,” he replies. “Never. I’m having Colin withdrawals, it can’t be helped.” 

Phil rolls his eyes as Dan turns the phone and inserts himself into the picture, and not for the first time he finds himself wondering if maybe this will be the year they get a dog of their own. He pictures somewhere quiet, a house with a backyard, maybe something a bit smaller than a labrador. They’d spent entire months abroad in 2016, and it had been wonderful - exciting and fast-paced and brand-new - but in the hollows of his bones he craves quiet in 2017. He craves home. 

* * * 

It’s 10.30 and Phil’s sat on the sofa with Ethan and Aimee and a few of their other friends. He’s onto his fifth glass of champagne and he’s feeling it now, head lightly fizzing and laughter always bubbling on the tip of his tongue. He’s telling them about Australia, about the little fairy penguins they’d all gone to see on the pier by their theatre in Melbourne. 

“Apparently there’s this old man who just spends his whole time knitting little jumpers for them,” he says, and he can hear the delight in his own voice. It’s mildly embarrassing, but the image of a tiny old man knitting jumpers for miniature penguins is just pretty damn delightful, he reckons. 

“Oh yeah, I think I’ve heard of that guy,” says Ethan. “Didn’t he die recently or something?” 

Phil sighs and makes a joke about 2016 brutally taking another victim, but it’s half-hearted as suddenly he can’t tear his eyes away from the little plastic table in the corner of the room. Dan’s knelt there with Leanne, and they’re making horses out of colourful beads with Ethan and Leanne’s four year old daughter, Ella. Her tongue sticks out between her teeth in concentration as she surveys the container full of beads, blonde pigtails bouncing as she reaches forward to select one.

“Dan, I’m making a pink one!” she exclaims, shoving the pink bead in Dan’s face excitedly. 

“Gentle, sweetheart,” Leanne scolds. “You’ll hurt Dan’s face!”

But Dan just smiles down at Ella, says “Wow, that’s gonna look so cool!”

Ella grins and places the bead down as gently as her tiny, enthusiastic hands can manage. She loses interest pretty quickly, Leanne taking over and chatting quietly with Dan while Ella watches his precise, measured movements in awe. Phil’s chest clenches at the sight of it, at the way Dan patiently explains to Ella what he's doing, at the way Ella bursts into peals of hysterical laughter when Dan tells the story of Colin stealing his dad’s slice of ham at Christmas when no one was looking. She looks up at him with such wonder in her eyes, and the only coherent thought that runs through Phil’s mind is just, _same_. 

He thinks of the conversation they’d had last night, in the soft velvety nothingness that is 3am, about a house of their own one day. They’ve had that conversation so many times he’s lost count, but he aches with how much he wants what Ethan and Leanne have. A warm, sprawling house and a goofy old dog and one day, a kid with bright eyes who will look up at the two of them like they hung the damn stars.

* * * 

It’s minutes away from midnight and 2016 is rapidly being knitted into mere memories. Everyone is crowded around the TV in the living room to watch the countdown, and Ella’s conked out on the sofa. Phil is pressed in between Dan and Ethan and the room is too warm but everyone’s bright-eyed with anticipation.

“Good riddance to 2016!” someone shouts, and he thinks he mostly agrees with the sentiment (after all, the world looks to be steadily going to shit) but really, for him and Dan, this was maybe the best year yet. He thinks of everything they've done this year, of the cramped tour-bus that had been their home for three months, of stage-lights and a playlist full of songs they’d chosen at 2am being passionately screamed by theatres full of their subscribers, of that night their films had been released and they’d sat on the sofa in their onesies drinking red wine and it had all been just slightly surreal.

He remembers a month ago, standing on a stage and declaring to a whole room full of his peers that he and Dan were a team that could never be separated, Dan chiming in that the universe depended on their being together. He thinks of a book filled lovingly with photos of their travels, a scrapbook of domesticity and adventure that somehow summarises everything he and Dan are to each other. As he joins in with the countdown, he wonders what the next year will bring.

“Five. Four. Three. Two. One! Happy new ye-” Phil is cut off as Dan turns to him and grabs his face a little roughly, presses a comparatively gentle kiss to his mouth and mumbles “Happy new year”.

Phil’s eyes are closed but he can feel Dan’s smile against his own lips, and it tugs the corners of his mouth up along with it. He squeezes Dan’s waist and opens his eyes, takes in this person who has been his home for seven years. The dog is barking at the fireworks, and all the noise has woken Ella on the sofa, but that all melts away and it’s just the two of them standing there. Phil thinks it’s fitting, somehow, that they are here in the north, in the home of his childhood best friend. 

This place raised him for 25 years, and now he stands here almost 30, with the person who is essentially the embodiment of home to him and contemplates their future together. And it won’t be in the north, most likely. But it’ll be comfortable and cosy and filled with all the happiness they’ve denied themselves over the years, and most importantly it’ll be with Dan.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr! dantique.tumblr.com


End file.
